


In Your Dearest Memories

by Lafaiette



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Feels, M/M, Memory Loss, Sexual Content, Temporary Amnesia, Yeah lots of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He wonders how loving Wade Wilson and being loved by him felt like.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Peter loses part of his memory after some trouble with a villain and forgets about his relationship with Wade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Your Dearest Memories

“Wade, _don’t_ shoot him!” Peter hisses as his boyfriend raises the rifle to hit the guy who decided that making robot-bombs and letting them roam through the city was a good idea.

“He’s escaping!” Wade indignantly points out. “He has got that nice sci-fi car and we are just swinging from building to building hoping to catch him!”

“You can’t kill him! And it’s not my fault the Avengers are busy with the robots right now!”

“You clearly can’t even imagine my spectacular skills with rifles and sights, Peter! It doesn’t matter if we are riding your webs like crazy - even though I’d rather ride something else, do you know what I mean? -, I can still hit him!”

“You must _not_ hit him!” Peter cries again and uses one leg to kick Wade’s rifle, causing its fall on a rooftop and Wade’s desperate yell.

“Crazy spider!” he whines with a so high-pitched voice Peter grimaces and wishes he could cover his ears. “What have you done?! You know how much I paid for that?!”

“You shouldn’t have bought it in the first place…” the young vigilante grumbles as they finally catch up with the villain.

“I want his car…” Wade still whines childishly. “It looks so shiny and _fast!_ ”

“Its color is _too_ shiny though… Hey, here is our chance!”

Peter now focuses  on the landing; he shoots one web to the building nearby and they go down, the villain fortunately stopped by some ruins created by his robots during the battle.

“He is slowing down!” Peter smiles triumphantly. He just has to find the right moment and web the guy down; Wade is anchored to his waist and Peter knows he won’t fall even if he let him go, so he puts his whole attention on the mad scientist, who is currently cursing and trying with all his might to find another way.

“End of the ride, dude!” Wade laughs maniacally taking out one of his guns.

“Wade, _no!_ ”

But the weapon is aimed to the car and the merc actually manages to hit the posterior wheels, stopping once and for all the vehicle.

“It’s so fucking beautiful, but also so lame and frail.” Wade comments, extremely disappointed, as they land and Peter rushes to the car to immobilize the guy.

Said guy apparently doesn’t like being stopped during his villainous escape, though, because he yells and launches a tiny, cute and deadly robot head at Peter.

“Crap!”

“ _Peter!_ ”

Thanks God Wade has a “Peter sense” because he is shielding him from the blast within just one second. The shock wave is powerful and it throws them on the ruins ahead without mercy, but at least Peter is safe. He can stand some broken bones and black eyes, Wade is the only one who can get better after explosions and dismembered limbs.

And so Wade dies - not surprising after a hit like that -, but before his consciousness leaves him he can hear Peter’s coughs and he dies rather relieved. Once he’s up again, he knows his baby boy will thank him and kiss him all better. At home they will take a bath together and Peter will rub his scars because they always hurt so much more after receiving wounds so serious and…

Wade’s mind goes all black just when he is imagining slow and nice sex in the bathtub.

 

When he finally wakes up in the middle of the battlefield, the Avengers are all around him.

 _This_ is surprising, because even though he’s Peter’s boyfriend they always try to speak to him as little as possible, fearing his crude jokes and loud, too-awesome-for-them personality.

Then Wade realizes they are not looking at him, but at the body lying next to him. It’s Peter and he’s alive, breathing and rubbing delicately his head, probably looking for wounds or blood.

“Baby boy.” Wade calls softly, too softly because Captain America’s booming voice covers his: “How are you feeling, son?”

“My _everything_ hurts…” Peter grunts looking at his hand and, yup, that’s totally blood. He must have hit some rubbles because of the shock wave. He sighs heavily and asks: “What happened? I can’t remember much… just a guy with some… explosive robots?”

“The mad scientist of the week.” Iron Man jokes with a stiff shrug. “There has been a lot of confusion, explosions here and there, but nobody is dead. Apart from the guy."

“You and Wilson did a good job actually.” Captain America shows a little smile and points at Wade, now the center of attention. “It’s a pity that man decided to blow himself up, but at least it wasn’t homicide.”

“Deadpool?” Peter says with a frown and Wade frowns too because the young man doesn’t call him like that since… _forever_.

“Huh… hi, baby boy?”

“What are you doing here?”

Wade blinks and he can sense the others’ surprise and confusion too. Barton and the Hulk even share a perplexed look.

The merc weakly laughs and answers with a joke, hoping to suppress the weird, negative feeling in his heart: “I’m waiting for my spine to work again, honey. Oh, thanks to whoever put my limbs back together!”

“No problem.” Stark mumbles absentmindedly as he and everybody else study Peter’s expression.

It doesn’t look good, because it’s a bit annoyed and still surprised.

“But _why_ are you here?” he insists shaking his head and flinching when this causes him pain. “Since when you take part in our missions?”

Wade freezes on the spot, mouth dry and cold sweat running on his back.

This is one of his worst nightmares and his heart almost stops when he painfully sits up to take Peter’s hand and he flinches back.

“No. No. You can’t do this.” the merc murmurs as the Avengers react in different ways: Iron Man curses, Captain America rubs his eyes while an exasperated Barton opens wide his arms in the universal gesture that means “well, this is fucking great”.

“Peter, listen to me…” Wade begs, panic drowning him and making his voice shake. “Don’t look at me like that, for fuck’s sake!” The last words are a desperate shout, because Peter is observing him with fear, confusion and maybe a hint of pity.

“What’s going on?” he asks, but he’s looking at the others now and ignoring Wade’s trembling hand still extended toward him.

“ _Us_ is what is going on!” Wade yells smashing a fist on the hard ground. “Petey, sweetums… baby boy…” Nicknames work in this kind of situations, right? They prompt the memory, they help people remember, he read that somewhere…

“What is wrong with you today, Deadpool?” Peter replies wobblingly getting up. “Someone _sane_ can please explain to me what’s happening?”

“He’s right, you know…” Barton says scratching his head. “You don’t remember anything?”

“No, just that crazy scientist, his robots and… and an explosion, I think. I mean, I remember who I am and who you are, but if I think about the past days…” Peter hisses in pain, clutching his head, and he jumps out of his skin when Wade appears next to him and grabs his arm.

“Peter, it’s me! It’s Wade!” The merc now shakes his shoulder, tries to touch his face and he chokes down a sob when the young man steps back with shock. “Baby boy…”

“What about your family?” Rogers steps in and Peter’s face looks as panicked as Wade’s now.

“Not… not much.” he admits. “I think… there is an old lady…?”

“This is serious.” Stark comments after another muttered stream of curses. “He needs medical assistance.”

“Of _fucking_ course he needs that!” Wade cries, making everyone jump at the harshness and despair in his voice. “He doesn’t remember anything! He doesn’t remember _me!_ ”

“No, I remember you!” Peter corrects him stepping back from him again. “You are Deadpool, even though you are really strange today. More than usual, from what I remember.”

“That’s wrong!” the merc replies, breath heavy and eyes maniacal. “You remember the wrong things! You don’t remember _at all!_ I-I mean, I’m weird as shit and annoying, I’ll admit that, but…” Wade finally manages to take his hand and holds it until his fingers are aching. He tries not to cry, not in front of the Avengers, but it’s difficult, especially because Peter looks so confused and isn’t returning his grip at all.

“Tell him!” Wade roars turning to the others. “Fuck, tell him!”

“You can’t be serious.” the young hero mutters shaking his head, but he finds confirmation in the other superheroes’ embarrassed and sad stares. “Oh, come on! This is impossible!”

“Why is that?” Wade asks still gripping his hand and removing his mask with a snarl filled by sadness. “Is it because I’m crazy? You helped me with that, you know? Or maybe it’s because I’m ugly as shit? You told me you didn’t care about my look! You actually said that and you always kissed me, you said you loved me and…!”

“Because you are an assassin!” Peter interrupts him raising his voice and Wade laughs and sobs at the same time, finally letting him go.

“You helped me with that too. But you're right. The crazy, disfigured ex-assassin could never be your boyfriend.” The merc smiles sadly and Peter returns his gaze with more confusion, incredulity and pity.

A heavy and bad silence falls upon them and it’s Stark who finally speaks after long minutes.

“… We should take you to the Avengers Mansion and do some medical checkups.”

He turns to Wade, who lowered his head and seems lost in his own world.

“Wilson, you come too.”

The merc gives an imperceptible nod and follows them as police and people finally find the courage to get closer. After some explanations, a speech by Rogers and the last assistance to wounded and trapped people, they go. Peter still wobbles and can’t use his webs, but he stubbornly refuses help. Wade follows him, he never leaves his side and if the young hero is annoyed or creeped out by this he doesn’t show him fortunately.

Wade thinks - hopes, _prays_  - this is an hallucination, a vivid dream, that he’s still dead and that Peter will greet him with his warm smile and a hug once he wakes up.

But the nightmare never ends and he’s soon sitting on a chair at the Avengers Mansion, staring blankly at the wall and ignoring the glass of water someone gave him. Peter is being examined in another room and now Wade prays on his complete recovery.

But when a tired Stark enters the room and gives him a sad look and a shake of his head, the scarred man roars and launches the glass of water across the room.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” he wails smashing his fists on the table he is sitting at. “He… he doesn’t remember?! He _won’t_ remember?!”

“It may require time.” Stark patiently explains. His tone is weirdly gentle and nice, but Wade couldn’t give a less of a fuck. He just wants Peter back.

“But it’s not sure, is it? He may stay like that for… for years. Forever.” Wade brings a trembling hand to his face to hide the teary eyes and sighs. “What about his aunt? What… what about…” he bites his lips and the word _‘me’_ doesn’t come out, but Stark understands the same.

“Stay with him. Talk to him.” the millionaire says going to the merc and awkwardly resting a hand on his shaking shoulder. “He needs details of his - _your_ life together - as much as possible. Every little thing may be the right piece of puzzle that will restore his memory.”

“He doesn’t even want me near him now.” Wade grits his teeth, hands now moving on the wooden surface without rest, as if he would like to do something but can’t right now.

“He fell in love with you. It will happen again.”

“Who says that?”

Wade slowly gets up and heads for the balcony; before opening the door he turns to Stark and gives him a bitter smile: “But I’ll try everything, I swear. Even if he hates me now.”

But the first thing he does once he’s in the balcony is shooting himself in the head.

 

\- - -

 

After receiving more medical treatment, Peter is free to go. He somehow remembered his home address and as he’s done reassuring the Avengers - “Yes, I know how to get home. _No_ , I don’t need Deadpool’s help.” - he heads to his apartment, hoping to find more clues about his family and what really happened in the last long months. Because he _can’t_ believe he is actually engaged with Wilson, despite the man’s desperate words and the Avengers’ confirmation.

When he slowly opens a window and steps into his apartment, he realizes there must be something true in that, because the first thing he notices is a photo of him and Wilson smiling cheerfully - albeit the scarred man looks rather stiff and shy - at the camera.

The camera! He remembers it, it’s one of his treasures! And he’s a photographer… a freelance photographer who is currently working with a bitchy boss… right?

His head hurts and the pain only increases when he sees details in the house that one part of his brain tells him shouldn’t be there: some big, black boots resting against the wall under a chair, a box full of weapons hidden in a corner by a cloth, two toothbrushes on the bathroom sink, two plates with food crumbs on the table…

And other photos of him and Wilson around the house, together with pictures of the old lady he vaguely remembers and an old man he can’t absolutely recall, but whose image gives him a lot of pain and nostalgia.

Peter rubs his forehead, trying to comprehend how in the hell he ended up with Wade Wilson, Deadpool the Merc with a Mouth. His mind doesn’t give him any answer, but he thinks about the way the man was looking at him and he shakes his head. This is too much for a single day.

He looks at the first photo he found and frowns: Wilson’s scars are not beautiful, they look terribly painful and gruesome, but the Peter in the photo is hugging the merc and pressing his cheek against his, his smile bright and sincere, without problems.

Peter wonders again how he did that and for the second time he finds no answer.

 

The sun has set when Wilson loudly enters the apartment. He actually uses his key and for a moment the door opening and Wilson’s heavy footsteps are a relieving and happy sound. Peter doesn’t even understand _why_ and he has just the time to analyze those feelings that they are already gone, replaced by surprise and annoyance.

“Wilson.” he simply says when the man enters the kitchen. He’s wearing his civilian clothes, really similar to the ones he wears in the photos, and Peter tries not to look at his sad and resigned expression.

“Hi, baby boy.”

The nickname also has a nice ring to it, but the young man continues to make dinner as if he heard nothing and resolutely ignores the merc as he passes near him to open the fridge. Peter almost feels guilty for not having made dinner for him too.

He watches Wilson as he sits on the sofa sipping a beer and removing his baseball cap. The scars are a weird sight under the soft light of the kitchen and living room lamps; Peter silently looks at them, forgetting the food on the stove and just observing the way the cancerous skin shifts when Wilson opens his mouth to drink or when he scratches his jaw. Then he sees his eyes and guilt stabs him again, because they are terribly sorrowful.

He turns off the stove, fills his plate and sits at the table. For a moment he thinks about giving his back to Wilson, but that would be just rude and if something really happened between them then Peter doesn’t want to be childish and cruel. So he sits facing the merc and blushes when the other turns to look at him and smiles.

“That’s where you always sat, you know?”

Peter lowers his eyes, not even seeing the food on his plate, and listens quietly as Wilson continues softly: “You said you loved sitting there because you could see me even when I wasn’t hungry and watched TV on the sofa instead. Sometimes you joined me here even if you hate leaving crumbs around. And when I ate with you…” Wilson points at the chair next to Peter. “… I sat there.” The scarred man lets out a sad laugh and concludes: “You always stole my food, you know?”

Peter doesn’t answer. The painful feeling in his heart is getting worse and he soon loses appetite.

He raises his eyes to look at Wilson again and isn’t surprised when he sees the merc hasn’t stopped staring at him.

The young man hurriedly gets up, puts the plate into the sink and leans on it, sighing through his nose.

“I’m not leaving. Better make this clear.” Wade softly says behind his back and Peter shakes his head, responding: “I’m sorry, but… but I don’t think I want you to stay here.”

Just three seconds after those words leave his mouth, Peter is being pinned against the sink by two strong arms and Wilson’s face is right in front of his, hot breath ghosting over his mouth.

“I’m _not_ leaving.” the man growls, but his tone turns desperate and agonizing when he adds: “I’m not, Peter. Honey...” He hides his face into Peter’s shoulder and weeps, holding him closer. The young man doesn’t move, standing awkwardly with his arms on his sides, listening to Wilson’s soft cries and feeling his hot tears wet his shirt.

“You’ve seen the pictures around the house, haven’t you?” Wilson continues raising his head. Tears are still falling from his eyes, but he is trying to control himself. “You have seen my clothes in the closet, right? The cream in the bathroom you used to soothe my pain… yes, you _touched_ me!” Now the merc is angry and bitter and takes Peter’s hand to forcefully put it on his cheek. Peter flinches a little feeling the marred skin under his fingers and instinctively uses his super strength to pull away.

“What? What, you don’t like it anymore?” Wilson is about to snap any moment now, but Peter feels - _knows_ \- he won’t harm him, that despite what he remembers about him Wilson isn’t dangerous.

“You kissed this skin! Hell, we _made love_ , Peter!” The young man blushes and can’t stop himself from imagining how sex with Wilson was like. He really kissed those scars? He let the merc so near, they accepted and trusted each other so much? He wonders how feeling that skin pressed against his own, how reaching the orgasm in those big arms was like.

He wonders how loving Wade Wilson and being loved by him felt like.

Then he shakes his head, terribly confused, and the confusion leads to anger.

“Let me go, Wilson.” he mutters pushing the older man away and closes his eyes for few seconds when he hears his sobs again.

“You… you can sleep on the couch.” he adds escaping into the bedroom and locking the door.

 

He opens that same door hours later to going on patrol. The house is quiet, it’s been like this since he locked himself in the bedroom. Maybe Wilson went away…

Or maybe not. Peter finds the merc snoring lightly on the couch, body in a painful and stiff pose.

Peter stands in front of him, fidgeting and observing him under the moonlight entering from the window. The scars look almost beautiful, now, and the sight would be peaceful if it wasn’t for Wilson’s ragged breath, probably caused by crying too much, and his melancholic expression.

Peter crouches next to the sofa and stares at the man for endless minutes. His head hurts, his heart beats too fast, especially when he starts imagining things he shouldn’t imagine. He found another photo inside his wallet and since then his mind has been a battlefield, because it’s a picture of them kissing. He also spotted a lube bottle inside the nightstand and now he can’t help but extend his hand to brush Wilson’s cheek, feeling the warm and disfigured skin under his fingertips. The man mutters something in his sleep and Peter follows a scar up to the mouth. There he stops, his mind returning to the picture in the wallet.

Peter stays like that for so much, motionless and lost in his own thoughts, that he almost screams when Wilson calls him.

“Baby boy…?”

There is urgency and hope in his tone and Peter feels bad when he shoots an expressionless stare at the merc as soon as his initial surprise is gone. Wilson understands and his face turns sad again.

“You still don’t remember loving me, huh?”

The scarred man extends a hand and cups Peter’s cheek, smiling through a new veil of tears.

“Don’t go on patrol tonight, Peter. Stay here.”

But Peter shakes his head, because he remembers patrols are important and almost a part of his secret identity, and he’s unable to find a name for the pain that creeps in his chest when Wilson’s eyes turn even sadder.

“I can’t.” he says and as he’s about to get up and go out, Wilson grasps his wrist to stop him.

“Wait, I’m coming with…”

“No, you stay here.” Peter needs to be alone right now, he can’t deal with the sensations and emotions the merc is giving him. He tries to smile, but his mouth doesn’t cooperate and he just stays like that, eyes locked with Wilson’s.

“There is food in the fridge if you are hungry.” the young man casually adds hoping this will do as a way to end this conversation. He tries to stand up again, but Wilson forces him down and now he’s silently crying again, begging Peter with his eyes.

“At least give me a kiss before going.”

Peter freezes and thinks about the picture, about all the little things in the bedroom that told him of sweet moments of domesticity and love. He feels like crying, because he can’t remember any of that, because his dearest memories should be about Wilson, but they are missing and a weird mixture of guilt and sadness remain.

“I can’t.” he repeats softly and he’s finally free, running at the window, opening it and escaping into the night.

The last thing he hears before swinging away is a shot.

 

\- - -

 

The patrol is horrible because Peter can’t focus, can’t think, it’s a miracle he can even move.

He manages to remember his aunt’s name, but the scenes from his childhood and that old man’s name are still a mystery.

Above all he thinks about Wilson, about his eyes full of despair and love, about the way his scars felt under his hand, and he has to sit multiple times to calm his heart and the pounding of his head as he tries to remember more.

Then there is an explosion nearby and Peter is stupid and brave enough to run over there, ignoring all the thoughts and worries inside his head.

Big is his surprise when he sees a crazy guy using explosive robots and making havoc in a part of the city. The Avengers come too and they are as shocked as him.

The crazy guy then announces he is the brother of the madman who died that morning and that he is ready to take revenge. He cries a bit during his speech too and Stark makes a stupid joke about how even villains can have a soft heart, before letting out some curses at the sight of Peter.

“What are you doing here?!” the millionaire hisses angrily at him. “You need rest!”

“I’m fine.” Peter curtly replies as he dodges two explosive heads and helps Stark capturing more of them. “We need to save the civilians.”

“You received a bad hit today!” Stark insists. “Where the hell is Wilson?! He should have kept an eye on you!”

Peter sorrowfully frowns at the merc’s name and swings away from Iron Man to save a family from some robots.

Wilson comes few minutes later, as deadly and serious as he has never been before.

Peter tries to avoid him, but Wilson seems to be following him, really keeping an eye on him as Iron Man said. He doesn’t talk, doesn’t even yells: he just destroys, dodges and destroys some more to protect Peter.

He glances at the young hero several times and Peter fights the urges to help him too, forcing himself to battle alone.

Then he sees it, a bomb aimed at Wilson who doesn’t notice it. It’s stupid, because Peter does remember Wilson can’t die, but something breaks in him as he imagines how much he would suffer if he got hit by the explosion. 

So he shoots a web and grabs him, hoping to make it in time before the bomb collides with the merc.

“ _Wade!_ ”

Peter pulls and the merc is safe from the blast, but not from the shock wave. As soon as the bomb hits the ground and explodes, Peter and Wade are thrown across the street for the second time in that day and everything screams “dejà vu” at the young hero, whose last thought before losing consciousness goes to Wade.

 

\- - -

 

Wade groans and opens his eyes, expecting more pain apart from the one the cancer already gives him. But nothing comes and he sighs relieved, because explosions are never fun and he hates regenerating himself after one of those.

He thinks he’s already been in a situation like this and his groggy brain is about to find the answer when his eyes finally focus on the shadow upon him.

“… Peter?”

Oh, his brain gives him the answer now. Wade drowns in sadness again as he recalls what happened that morning and earlier before at home, but something isn’t quite right…

Peter is smiling at him and it’s his usual warm and fond smile.

“Hey, knucklehead.” the young man laughs squeezing his hand. “Are you okay?”

“What the fuck.”

Wade sits up, staring at his boyfriend whose smile turns into an adorable, perplexed expression. The merc hesitantly raises a hand and strokes his cheek, not covered by the pulled up mask, making him blush.

“What?” Peter laughs again putting his hand on his and pressing it closer. “I’m okay, Wade, I swear. What about you? I don’t see any missing limb, but…”

“You… you remember!” Wade exclaims, joy, triumph, more joy and relief rushing over him like a warm waterfall. “You remember _us!_ ”

“Of course I do.” Peter looks genuinely disoriented now and even though Wade can’t see his eyes under the mask, he knows they look rather lost. “Oh God, what happened? Is there something I don’t know?”

Wade’s only answer is a sob and a bone-crushing hug.

“You could say that.” a voice snorts and Peter turns his head to look at the Avengers, while he gently returns Wade’s hug and holds him close.

“I don’t understand.” he admits. He looks around and sees some policemen taking away a rather crazy-looking guy. There are rubbles and small fires, but whatever happened here is over now.

“Wow, why does this feel like a tremendous _dejà vu_?” he mumbles, but he can’t think too much about it because Wade just started crying softly into his neck and speaking super-fast. “Wade, what’s wrong?! Shh, calm down, honey…”

“You gave us a bad scare, son.” Captain America says then he points at Wade. “But I think he’s the one that most suffered today.”

“What…?” Peter’s heart skips a beat, because Wade already suffered so much and he doesn’t deserve any more pain. He looks down at him and gently removes his mask to let him breathe easier through his tears.

“This morning, after a battle really similar to this one, you hit your head and lost part of your memory.” Stark finally explains. “You couldn’t remember your aunt and…” he gestures at the merc, now much calmer, but still pressed against Peter. “And you couldn’t remember him. It has been a big shock for the poor man.”

“Oh God.”

Peter delicately pushes Wade to look at him and takes his hand while the merc sniffs and wipes out the last tears.

“Wade, forgive me! I’m so sorry, I…”

“It’s not your fault, baby boy.” the older man grins, but his face turns imploring and panicked when he adds: “Please, don’t forget me ever again.”

Peter hugs him again and whispers with trembling voice: “It will never happen again, I swear.”

 

They return to the Avengers Mansion for another medical checkup and it’s dawn when the two men finally get home and fill the bathtub with hot steamy water to the brim. Wade hasn’t left Peter’s side for one moment and when the young man presses his body against his, the merc lets out a small sound of happiness and relief, because he was sure he lost this, that he lost _Peter_.

“Wade, tell me what happened.” Peter tells him cupping his cheek. “What did I say? Did… did I…”

Wade interrupts him with a light kiss that soon becomes deeper and wet.

“Don’t worry about that, Peter. Just… just stay with me, please.”

And Peter does, pressing kisses on his skin and taking his legs to wrap them around his waist.

“I missed you, baby boy.” Wade whispers in his ear and moans when the young man slowly slips into him.

“God, Wade, I can’t believe I forgot…!” Peter tries to speak, but his words are cut off by another heated kiss. Wade starts giggling and pulls him closer, dipping a hand under the hot water to grab his butt.

“Faster, Peter…” he begs hiding his face into his neck, a content and aroused smile on his lips. “Please, faster…”

Peter complies, speeding up his thrusts and brushing his thumb over Wade’s erection, whispering in his ear sweet words, reassuring promises and happy whines.

Wade is the first to come and Peter follows soon, filling him and falling on his scarred chest. He smiles feeling a warm hand playing with his wet hair and presses his lips on the marred skin.

“Stark told me something.” he softly says raising his head to look at Wade, whose hand now goes lower to caress his face. “He said that one’s dearest memories are the most vulnerable to amnesia and memory loss. That’s why I couldn’t remember my aunt, my uncle and you.” Peter smiles and adds in a soft voice: “You are pretty important to me, Wade.”

Wade blushes and despite his tremendous shyness, he responds: “You are pretty important to me too, Peter.”

The young man’s smile brightens and he kisses the scarred lips another time, before saying:

“I want to have more memories with you! So many more it will take _days_ to remember them all!”

Wade laughs and gets out of the bathtub, helping Peter to do same.

“It’s a splendid idea, baby boy. Let’s start now!”


End file.
